The Scarlet Witch: Short Stories
by paynesgrey
Summary: These are various ficlets and stories that are centered around the powerful and burdened Avenger, the Scarlet Witch. In progress.
1. Home

AN: Written for the "Cherry" theme at fanfic-bakeoff on Livejournal. Word Count Limit: 300. Slight Pietro/Wanda. Rated PG.

Home

Smoke and remorse burned his tongue, and he felt the weight of his sister's sorrow stifle him like an endless squeeze.

They stood at the open door of his place and she peered inside.

Her face said it all. So many deaths, so many mutants stripped of their powers, had burdened her and weighted like a stone on her heart. If there was one quick fix where he could erase it all away, he would, in a heartbeat, at the price of a soul he probably no longer had.

_As long as she's back,_ he thought, and after they left the scene where the bodies of two Young Avengers fell, his sister said her farewells and longed for peace. She wanted anything but what her life had been before, not with Doom, and not even with the Avengers.

He had thankfully convinced her to come to his place, for she had no home of her own, and he was her family. Aware that she had her own future plans, Pietro did not pry and left her to her thoughts. He only offered her the warmth of him, his nearness, and a place where she would never feel lost.

He could feel her eyes on him as she turned toward him. He could see thoughts already taking shape from the expression on her face. Her hand squeezed his, and Pietro feared letting it go. Reluctantly, she released his grip, and he watched her as she stepped forward, his eyes finding a place to stare on her cherry red cape.

His sister would make this place a home, for both of them, and there was nothing more in the world he wanted.

He had her back, and this was all that had mattered, not war, not his father, not peace.

Only Wanda.


	2. Each Other

AN: Written for the "boardwalk" prompt for the Summer Mini Challenge on Livejournal. Rated: PG. Spoilers for Avengers Children's Crusade.

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Each Other

He finds her staring at the sea and standing on a boardwalk, the wind tossing around her hair and scarlet cape like a flag in a storm.

Slowing for her, he comes behind her, cautiously approaching at her side. As usual, his sister carries a conflicted, unhappy expression on her face as she stares into the raging ocean.

"Oh, Pietro, is it ever going to end, this suffering?" she asks him, and he wonders what she means. All suffering that they've only ever known, or just the suffering of the whole of mutant-kind, stained like fresh blood on her hands?

He can imagine how she feels, now finally coming with the grips of what she'd done to the mutants, taking away their powers - their birthrights. He can see that she also feels the deaths she caused like a tattoo on her soul.

He notices fresh tears in her eyes and before she can protest, he draws her into an embrace. He can't say anything. He knows his own pain after M-Day. He knows it as well as an old friend, forever outstaying its welcome. The pain still burns, and no matter how fast he runs, he can never escape it.

Wanda feels it now, and he sees the burden on her face as she realizes what she's done, what she cannot undo - not completely. Her penance is just beginning, and he can only stay by her side, help her through as much as he can.

He cannot deny that his sister is strong. He doesn't know a stronger person on this earth. But he can't turn away from her, not in a time like this. His love for her cuts too deep, deeper than the pain caused by M-Day.

As he holds her, Wanda succombs to his touch, and Pietro is grateful. He's half afraid she'll deny him and go off on her own. But she takes his hand and accepts his support. After all, she has only ever had him, and he has only ever had her.


	3. Always One

AN: Written for the "snow" prompt at comicdrabbles at Livejournal. Rated PG. Takes place within Marvel Earth 1610 universe, part of the Ultimates series. Word Count: 300. Slight spoilers for Ultimates 3. Warning for incest, Wanda/Pietro.

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Always One

Snow fluttered outside his bedroom window, and he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, pushing away thoughts of how much he hated this weather, how it made him both anxious and tired.

Drifting into a half dream, he roused when he felt her weight on his bed.

He knew it was her. Anyone else he'd push away. Anyone else he'd punish severely, but not her. Never Wanda.

Over the course of their lives, Wanda had always been welcome.

He could feel her sliding over the covers, settling next to him. Her warmth soothed him; her scent tickled his nose, honeysuckle and incense, and he felt drowsy from it, taking too much inside.

They've slipped away for the weekend. War was starting to bore him, and Wanda could not tolerate it anymore. If Pietro heard Captain America go one one more time about peace and freedom, he'd might have hung himself. Wanda couldn't stand the bad energy, the tension, and the judgemental looks from their comrades.

"They look at us like we are monsters," she'd cried, which turned to anger shortly after that. Pietro held her, soothing her sobs, quelling her magic, as he always did.

If only their team members knew what they did behind closed doors! Behind the thicket of foliage in the jungle or in the dark corners of alleys beyond the warzones and destruction. Out of that had come love - their love, and he wasn't going to let any of them stain it with their simple minds and empty hearts.

"Come," he said, shivering unexpectedly until she settled next to him, a balm to his wounds, his doubts. "My sister."

She whispered into his chest. He thought he might have heard her say, "My love."

No, he knew it. _Felt it. _Because they were one.


End file.
